


Gagging for it

by 3_modes_Ace_Kat



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Consensual Drugging, Humiliation, M/M, Sexy threats, Verbal Humiliation, cock gag, how many endearments can I fit in a chapter?, more than you’d think, threat of consensual drugging, vehicle sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:28:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29231526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3_modes_Ace_Kat/pseuds/3_modes_Ace_Kat
Summary: Post the Apocalypse and back in London, Wilde gets a new toy, and Zolf finds out
Relationships: Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

There are many wonderful things about being back in London. The access to new clothes and delicious food. The newly established high society that Wilde can sail and dominate the landscape of. The access to shiny new toys that Wilde can order and have them delivered to their door.

It's not that he and Zolf don't have a rather active sex life. Wilde's been doling out information to Zolf, and the dwarf has been far too good at ferreting out others. But sometimes, an idea lodges itself in his head, and won't leave. 

It started with just how lovely Zolf’s cock is and how much he loves sucking it. It progressed to how much Wilde loves being pushed around and humiliated for being so much hornier than Zolf. It ends with this:

A box arrives at the door. Discrete packaging, nice label from a well known and high end supplier. And a note. Oscar leaves it on the corner of his desk as he goes about writing for the day. But it keeps taunting him. The box inside is a gorgeous purple with bright ribbon. The shine draws his eye. Around noon, he gives in and grabs the note.

_wait for me_

Wilde throws the note back on top of the box in disgust and resolves to ignore it. But it’s there, glimmer of color out of the corner of his eye. It won’t hurt to just look, will it?

A few hours later (a personal best for him), he gives into temptation and the sight that greets him makes his mouth water. Thick, on the shorter side, large base. A gag, with a part that could be considered phallic shaped. Oscar’s hand reaches out and traces it, mind already full of thoughts of how it would feel in his mouth. It’d be a stretch. It would fill him up deliciously. He promised to wait.

But he didn't close the box. So it's there, a gorgeous green, because Oscar had told Zolf once that that's his favorite color. Taunting him. His mouth waters and he doesn't quite know why.

Look. Oscar has had a long day. He's been teased and half hard all day. He earned this. He earned that toy filling his mouth. Zolf would understand. 

Oscar stands up and races to their bedroom. He doesn’t even make it to the bed, he’s just on the floor, desperately pressing the gag into his mouth, moaning helplessly around it, clothes half off; one hand down his pants. He's fully hard now, leaking all over himself. Too busy moaning around the satisfying stretch, the way it fills his mouth, forces his mouth open for spit to gather at the corners and all over his face, Oscar overbalances and ends up face down ass up. The extra press, the way he can get just that bit more in is all the better.

Zolf waits a few minutes, really let him get going, lost in sucking a cock for the first time in a while, so loud in his ecstasy that he can be heard down the hall, before he walks in without bothering to knock. With the sounds that Oscar is making, he wants to be caught.

“Wilde. What are you doing? I thought I told you to wait?”

Wilde has ended up with his head towards the bed so all he can do is tilt his head over his shoulder a little, eyes up, try to pull the toy out of his mouth. Try to look more put together and not like he was just gagging for it. But the toy makes a (delicious) slurping sound as he pulls it out, saliva dripping down his chin and smeared across his cheeks, lips already red and a little swollen from how hard he was shoving it in his mouth. 

“Gods man. That’s really what it takes? Sit up. On your heels. Give me that. You clearly don't deserve it.” Zolf walks up and grabs the toy, sliding it almost all the way, just to hear the desperate little whimper, see the way Wilde sways to follow its path. “You’re that desperate for something in your mouth?” Oscar tries to pull himself together, tries to shake his head. He's used to having more control than this, but something about Zolf tears to the core of him. A sweet flush of shame suffuses him at Zolf's look of disdain.

“Give me you hand. Show me how you like to have your mouth used.” Zolf says, walking around behind, so he can stand there and press against Wilde’s back, loom over him a little and make a solid wall so Wilde can’t jerk his head to far back. He wraps his own hand around Wilde’s, controlling the motion that Oscar uses as he attempts to obey, making each thrust just a little harder, each pull just a little further out.

Just for fun, Zolf jerks the toy out completely from time to time, one hand fisted in his hair, holding him in place as he runs it on Wilde’s cheek. “Go on, beg for me to give your your toy back, since you’re so desperate for it.”

Wilde wraps his hands around Zolf’s wrist. He tries to press a little but it’s like moving a granite wall. He looks up, and Zolf’s eyes are just glints in the half dark, his smile is implacable. “I said beg.”

“Zolf. Zolf please. I need. I want.”

Zolf leans down, tucks his mouth right next to Wilde’s ear, even as he forces his head further back so he can only gaze at the ceiling. "What do you want, Oscar?" He asks, tracing the toy around Wilde's lips, holding him in place so he cant chase it and drag it back in his mouth. 

"Please. Please Zolf. Let me -. I can't-" There's a blush on his cheeks and tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. Zolf chuckles a little, darkly. Oscar is gorgeous like this, strung out and desperate from just a little teasing. 

"You make such a pretty picture like this. It's too bad I'm so possessive or I'd show this off. How much your carefully crafted façade can be torn apart just from a little application of force. Go on. Admit that you want something, anything in your mouth. You just have to tell me.”

“Zolf. Please. Please let me, let me suck the toy.” There’s tears falling down his face now, a little involuntary response to actually admitting something. Something hot and thrilling runs down his spine though. It feels good to show his belly.

Zolf smiles against his ear, kisses a tear away. “You can do better.” He says, letting the tip rest just against Wilde’s lower lip. “Beg to be allowed to suck anything I want to give you. You’re always running your mouth. It gets enough exercise that it can be put to better use.”

“Zolf. Please give me something to suck on. I need. I need it in my. My mouth.”

“There you go, was that so hard?” Zolf asks, slowly sliding the toy back in, setting up a steady in out rhythm, letting Wilde get used to his mouth being used without any input from him. The pace is too slow on the in and too fast on the out to give Wilde enough time to swallow fast enough, so the pattern forces more saliva to gather at the corners of his mouth, spill past his lips. He can't wrap his lips around the shape properly, and spit is building up in the back of his mouth, forced to spill with every draw. He's making a mess all over himself, helped by the force that is Zolf, by the girth of the toy. 

“Look at you, all pretty and helpless. Who would have thought that the throat of London would like being filled and silenced quite so much? But I know now, Oscar. I’ll always be able to hold that over your head. In your fancy meetings, in your fun galas, you’ll look at me and know that I know that your favorite place is kneeling at my feet, mouth filled with what I choose to give you, drooling and crying all over yourself. That a few words from me will have you crawling just to be put back in your place.”

Oscar can't help but go lax in Zolf’s grip, let him support his body as he feels leaden, thrumming with the sensations forced upon him. 

“Let me use your mouth, Oscar. Relax. I want to be able to shove this so far in it’s in your throat that you're gagging just a little from it. Just like that.” Wilde tilts his head back, trying to relax. He’s already falling back in that soft mind space where this feels so good, even the squirming humiliation of someone knowing exactly how to take him apart, using him like he's nothing more than an amusing plaything.

Zolf’s hand settles on the base of the gag, and he presses in firmly, so that when it’s all the way in, the palm of his hand is over Wilde’s lips, silencing him. Zolf holds it there for a few seconds before pulling the toy out, leaving Wilde gasping and whining with loss.

“I’ve got you Oscar. I think you’ve had enough of this though. Touch yourself for me and I’ll give you something much better.” 

Wilde’s hands scrabble to get into his pants, wrap around his own cock and he pleads desperately as Zolf settles the gag on the floor.

“Zolf anything, please give me something. I want my mouth full.” His lips are red and swollen, aching a little and Oscar is ravenous for more.

“Shh. I’ve got you now.” Zolf says, and pushes two fingers into Oscar’s mouth. Though Oscar had given much thought to just how big those fingers are, it doesn’t prepare him for the reality, how thick they are, just how much they would stretch the corners of his lips, just how good it feels for them to press down on his tongue and slide out of his mouth. “You just suck on that, and you’re going to come with my fingers in your mouth.”

They settle into a rhythm again, Zolf cradling Oscar to his chest, pushing his knees apart, gently gagging him the slightest bit, sloppy sounds coming from Oscar’s mouth as more slick dribbles down his chin and onto his shirt. Oscar can feel that he's a mess, tears mixing with spit and there's something freeing in that.

“You love this so much. Don’t try to deny it. It’s plain as day. Maybe I should talk to Cel. They were talking about some new concoctions they’d mixed up recently. One of the things they mentioned wasn’t too great because it made the user’s mouth go all slack and soft and a little puffy. Maybe I should get some for you? Give you some one night and leave you curled up beside me, helplessly sucking your new toy? Anyone could walk in and see you, drool on your chin, just lying there, waiting for me to take your toy and use your mouth. Maybe we should get you a different gag, so you can’t close your mouth at all? Just hold it open and ready for me? I’d be able to walk by and slip a finger or two past your lips so easily.”

Zolf takes a moment to pull his fingers out and cradle Oscar’s face, letting them leave wet impressions on his cheek before putting Oscar’s mouth back to work.

“You’d like that. Maybe as a treat. Let’s start with the potion and see just how much you like being by my side, mouth slack and ready for me to muss you up.”

That was all it took for Oscar to come, his orgasm startling them both. 

“There now. All better.” Zolf said, pulling his fingers free and wiping them on Oscar’s shirt.   
Wilde reaches up and desperately grabs his hand. 

“Please, let’s not finish yet?”

“Alright. Clean yourself up and get on the bed. You can cockwarm for me while I read.”


	2. Dinner Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dinner distraction and a promised potion

Wilde is in his element, swanning around Edward Keystone's Introduction Back to Society as the New Lord Keystone celebration. He’s half here for fun, and half to acquire some intelligence. To be fair, the intelligence in question is for his column writing. It's almost a protection racket he's running for his friends, gathering enough incriminating gossip to keep shut the mouths of the worst offenders who would seek to undermine Ed. And Tjelvar. And their wonderful wife who is so tolerantly bearing the next Keystone Heir. Everyone knows exactly why Wilde is here. So he is content to make his rounds, trading words and circling like a shark around bleeding prey. The fear hidden under casual disgust in a tad intoxicating, and he’s forgotten how much he’s missed this. 

The fact that Zolf had consented to come with, citing an interest in sampling what high society calls “proper champagne” and to “scandalize the locals”, is just the umbrella on heady cocktail that Wilde has been sipping at all night, half alcohol half atmosphere.

To say nothing of the clothes. Oscar will admit that getting ready for this had definitely contributed to his fun. At some point in the last year, probably while he and Zolf were out attempting to adapt to a pastoral lifestyle, the preferred style of dress has tilted towards tight enough to be obscene. Oscar felt like his clothes had been painted on instead of tailored. Zolf had lent into the scandalizing angle, wearing a leather coat but no shirt, held to some form of modesty by the chains that connected the buttonholes. His pants were a little looser, to account for the legs. 

Oscar would admit to spending quite a bit of time hiding a smile behind his glass, watching his partner rile up nobles and courtiers alike with his outlandish views, that Oscar generally shared. There were enough of the "other crowd" to keep Zolf from murdering anyone, giving him a place to retreat to when the whispers became too much.

Dinner was boring but not egregious, giving everyone a break. Zolf made a point of sitting next to Oscar, a privilege he had to fight for, despite everything. Thankfully, neither of them were above glaring to get their point across. Though, to be fair, Zolf’s glare was the more fearsome of the two. 

Part way through the dessert that came close to making the meal worthwhile, Zolf crooked a finger, encouraging Oscar to lean down. 

"Meet me in the small room by the entry way in an hour." The words were accompanied by a strong hand on his inner thigh, encouraging it to spread. Oscar bit his lip, trying not to show how much this was getting to him. 

Exactly 53 minutes later, Oscar made his excuses and did his best to not look like he was running to his appointment, champagne glass in hand and already half hard. Slipping into the room in such a well trafficked area was not an easy feat, but Oscar felt he pulled it off. 

Inside, Zolf was lounging against the wall, looking like he had all the time in the world. A small chandelier lit the room, throwing rainbows.

At his entrance, Zolf glanced up and gave that smile that always warmed Oscar down to his toes.

”Little eager to see me, love.” Zolf whispered, pushing a willing Oscar against the opposite wall and stepping between his spread legs.

“A gentleman gave me an offer I could hardly refuse, darling.” Oscar responded, voice throaty with laughter. Zolf took his champagne glass with one hand, encouraging Oscar to slump and let Zolf’s hips hold him up with a hand on his lapel.

”Bold of you to call me a gentleman, especially with the plans I have for you.” Zolf growled and pulled his partner into a series of rough kisses, playing with a nipple to really get Oscar going. It wasn’t a long process. They’d been dancing around each other all night, teasing and tantalizing.

Eventually, Zolf mouthed down the column of Oscar’s neck, one hand cupping the other side, and left a series of dark hickies. Oscar’s grasping hands were leaving bruises in his shoulders, and his hips were rocking languidly, caught between Zolf’s hips and the wall.

Leaning back, Zolf surveyed his handiwork. Oscar was a mess, slick trails on his neck, bruises on either side, and the outline of his cock and nipples were clearly visible through the too tight fabric. Zolf gave a little hum of satisfaction at a job well down. He made to take a step back from his partner.

”Zolf, you can’t leave me like this. It’s cruel and unusual torture.” Oscar whined, wriggling his hips in invitation.

In response, Zolf’s belly contracted in a silent laugh that he knew Oscar would feel, even as he let a finger trail along one side of the ridge of Oscar’s cock. 

He leaned in close and whispered "Everyone will see. You'll walk out of here hard enough to pound nails, and you won't be able to hide it from anyone. Even if you came, I wouldn't let you clean yourself up. And wouldn't that be a scandal; Oscar Wilde walking out with his pants drenched in come?"

The mewl Oscar gave was high and loud. 

“Do you want everyone to hear you? Do you want someone to burst through the door, see you like? All sprawled on my hips and begging me for whatever I choose to give you?”

“No. Yes? No. Please Zolf. Don’t leave me hanging.” Oscar curled over Zolf, burying his hands into short hair and tugging it close. Zolf didn’t move, one finger slowly stroking Oscar’s cock, occasionally slipping down to rub at the head.

”I can and will, Oscar. I’m going to go back out there, and I expect you to follow in three minutes, whatever state you’re in.”

”And if I don’t?” Oscar challenged, trying to stand and failing miserably.

”I won’t share the lovely little potion that Cel sent me recently.”

”Fuck. You can’t just say things like that.” Zolf’s eyes glittered in amusement as he slowly stepped back, giving Oscar a chance to lean against the wall supporting him.

”Three minutes, Oscar. Don’t forget.” Zolf said with a jaunty wave, smug as a cat.

Oscar slumped back against the wall, panting and trying to get himself under control, cursing himself for picking a partner who knew him and loved him enough to give him exactly what he wanted.

Then he grinned, straightened up and followed Zolf’s lead, intent on making a show.

* * *

The party was going to last well into the night, but Oscar’s patience for such things had waned recently, what with the world almost ending, society’s collapse/rebuilding, and the round the world jaunts. Zolf’s promised gift from Cel had absolutely nothing to do with his haste. Not at all.

He begged off early, Tjelvar giving him a frankly ludicrous knowing look. Edward was just happy to see his friends. Oscar wasn’t particularly sure that Eddie understood everything he was planning to do, with the newspaper and that’s fine. Oscar would take care of it.

Oscar had no shame in hustling a laughing Zolf out of the party.

”You can’t promise me such a good time and then expect me to want to stick around that.” Oscar gave an evocative twirl back to the party when they finally settled into their carriage home. He was very glad that it would be a long ride back.

”I did expect you to have more patience, love.”

”You expect me to wait any longer? I’ve been on edge all evening with antici-potion.”

Zolf’s smile would look more at home on a shark. He reached up and twined his fingers slowly into Oscar’s cravat, dragging him down into an absolutely filthy kiss. 

“I would hate to not deliver.” He reached into their bag of holding and pulled out a small vial. “The potion from Cel, as promised. Arrived this morning.” Oscar tried to grab it, but Zolf leaned back, tucking it between his body and the door.

”No, love. I have a better idea. Kneel down for me.”

With a sweet little moan, Oscar complied. Zolf took a minute to just cup Oscar’s face and rub his thumb over his parted lips, getting them shiny with spit. “This is such a gorgeous look on you, love. Your mouth has done so much talking tonight, I figured it would enjoy a chance to relax. Plus, I want to see how it would feel for you to suck my cock like this." Carefully, Zolf uncorked the vial and slipped the mouth between Oscar’s lips, feeding him the liquid inside. 

The bard sat back on his heels, tongue running over his lips to chase the taste. 

“Good?”

”Minty. Bitter. Sweet after tashte.” It worked fast, because by the end of the description, Oscar was already slurring a little. His tongue felt too big for his mouth. His facial muscles felt loose and out of his control but his lips felt tingly and over sensitive. It had the pleasant side effect of making him feel a little floaty and fuzzy around the edges.

All of the sudden, he felt ravenous, and like he’d never know peace if something didn’t fill his mouth right that second. Without even realizing it, Oscar had reached down to grab Zolf’s hand and shoved two fingers in his own mouth.

”Do my fingers feel good, beloved?” Zolf whispered, gently thrusting them in and out. Oscar nodded in answer and moaned loudly, feeling absolutely wanton, as glaive callouses dragged over his incredibly sensitive lips. He felt every snag and whirl and the spittle already dripped out of the corners of his mouth. He couldn’t close his mouth properly, muscles too watery to control, and so he drooled all over himself.

He felt slick and messy and helpless; grounded only by Zolf’s steady presence and the digits pressed against his tongue. Looking up at Zolf’s thoroughly satisfied face, Oscar knew he’d be well cared for. It was an incredibly comforting feeling.

“Do you think my cock with feel better?” A frantic nod. “Let’s find out.” Oscar helped Zolf open his trousers, stroking the cock beneath. As always, Oscar’s mouth watered at the sight and with how slack his mouth was feeling, it trickled down the sides of his face.

Zolf chuckled a little and hooked his fingers behind Oscar’s teeth, dragging the man forward. “With how you mouth is, sweetness, I bet you could take both my fingers and my cock. I think we should find out.” Spreading his fingers to the corners, Zolf slipped his prick between them and then hauled Oscar’s willing mouth down.

It was a stretch. Zolf’s cock was always such a thick stretch but it felt easier now. Oscar didn’t even notice the fingers slipping out, too intent on seeing how much he could fit down his throat. It felt so willing, so able to take more and more and more.

His eyes were closed, he was making a mess all over Zolf’s lap, and Zolf’s cock was finally all the way in his throat. He couldn’t breathe, but even that felt amazing. Oscar was spread, moulded by potion and will to fit Zolf perfectly, to be a vessel for anything that the dwarf wanted to give him.

“Fuck, darlin,” A hand pulled Oscar off the cock he was so enjoying. “‘D never seen you take it so well.” Now that he could breathe, he could whine, a tiny trail of spit connecting the head and Oscar’s mouth. He tried to chase it, bring that fullness back in. “Deep breath, love.”

Oscar obeyed and Zolf let him lower himself back down. He couldn’t suppress a hum from building in his throat, sheer pleasure at the situation.

”Oh that feels so good. Just like that, a little louder.” In answer, Oscar groaned louder, let it build and echo in his throat. When Zolf’s hand pulled him back a bit, the groan slipped out the edges of his lips. “Slow for now.”

Zolf’s hands were implacable, holding Oscar to a steady rhythm. Each thrust felt like a punch, forcing Oscar’s throat to expand to accommodate. Each pull back left slick trails of cum over his palette, his tongue, his lips. 

“Don’t know if I want to come on your face or down your throat more, lovely.” Zolf said, smearing slick over Oscar’s lower lip.

“Anything. Zolf, anything you want. Please just give me something to suck on.” The words were slurred.

”You’re even hungrier than normal.” Zolf said, sliding just the tip back in, rubbing the head right behind Oscar’s teeth. He felt like he was drifting, mouth stretched and meant to be used. Oscar curled his hands around Zolf’s metal ankles, just to ground himself a little. 

“Close your eyes and open your mouth for me, sweetheart.” Oscar obeyed happily, letting his jaw sag. Barely any time at all passed before there was spend on on his cheek, his chin, his tongue. It suddenly hit him that it meant he wouldn’t have Zolf’s cock to suck anymore and the thought startled a bereft cry out of him, aching and empty as he was.

”Don’t worry, love. I’ll take care of you.” Before Oscar could sink into his disappointment, something smooth and hard was rubbing across his face, picking up the cum and sliding into his mouth. It was the gag Zolf had given him before, and the dwarf was buckling it in place.

Oscar wriggled in joy, face planting into Zolf’s stomach and letting him tighten the straps. His muscles seemed to be coming back under his control a little, but Oscar didn’t want this to end. The gag helped so much, filling his mouth, and forcing drool out of the edges to sit on his lips. He let himself rest in that soft place. 

Then Zolf was hauling him into his lap, sideways on the seat. One hand tangled in Oscar’s hair, and he was pulled into the shelter of Zolf’s shoulder as another hand scrabbled at his pants, drawing out his cock.   
  
“You were so good for me. So lovely. I adore you always, but this was a fucking revelation.” Now Oscar knew why he’d been hauled into Zolf’s neck. It was to hide the tears praise always engendered in him, especially when he was like this.

Zolf’s hand closed over his cock, and stroked, while Oscar floated in the safety of Zolf’s shoulder, one strong arm keeping him pinned.

”You’re not coming just yet, love.” Oscar whined sharply at that. “You can hold it for me, I know you can. I just love how you fill my hand, how hard you get when I play with you properly. But soon, when we’re in bed. When I can press you face down into the pillow, force the gag so far into your mouth it’s in the back of your throat and give you a proper buggering. When you’re wrapped oiled and spasming around my cock. Then. Then you can come for me.”

Oscar dug his fingers into Zolf’s leather coat, shivering and desperate and so very satisfied.


End file.
